Chapter 131: A Promise
The room was filled with chatter as the heroes laughed and talked amongst themselves at the round table.
The once massive cake sat in the center of the table, its size reduced to almost nothing after the cake went round for the sixth time.
Or rather, after a certain cake demon kept taking every opportunity she had to take another slice of the cake.
"I don’t think Julie called this birthday to celebrate Phantom, cause tell me why she’s the only one who’s taken a huge chunk of the cake alone!" Selena said, her sharp gaze locked on Julie whose mouth-filled munching slowed down as she noticed the sharp gaze on her.
Dana let out a chuckle, "Allow her, she’s got a sweet tooth"
"A sweet tooth? She’s got a whole sweet jaw," Selena scoffed.
Julie swallowed hard, pounding her chest as the cake forced its way down her throat, "For the record! I only took three slices!"
"Five," Nicholas corrected from the side, not even looking up from his glass.
"Traitor! You were counting?!" Julie gasped, clutching the plate protectively to her chest like a mother shielding her child.
"Hard not to. You made a trip every four minutes."
"That’s called dedication!"
"It’s called gluttony," Selena said flatly.
The table burst into laughter.
"To be fair," Light chipped in from the side, scratching his cheek, "it is a really good cake. I had two slices myself."
"See! Light gets it!" Julie pointed at him like she’d just found a witness in court.
"He had two. You had five," Vixen said with a soft chuckle, resting her chin on her palm.
"Why is everyone counting my slices?! It’s a party! Nobody counts at a party!"
"The birthday boy hasn’t even had a second slice," Nectron said, shaking his head with an amused smile.
All eyes shifted to Nicholas.
He sat there calmly, one hand around his glass, the untouched half of his first slice still resting on his plate.
"...Do you not like sweet things?" Vixen asked curiously.
"I don’t eat much sugar. It slows reaction time," Nicholas replied casually.
Silence.
"It’s your birthday," Selena said, staring at him in disbelief.
"And?"
"AND?! Who talks about reaction time at their own birthday party?!"
"A professional."
"A maniac," Selena corrected, rubbing her forehead.
[Ding!]
{Your audience adores you!}
{+40 Charm points}
’Even now?’ Nicholas glanced at the notification with a raised brow before dismissing the screen.
The night carried on in warm chaos.
Dana produced a deck of cards from seemingly nowhere and fleeced Light out of his dignity in four straight rounds. Thinker joined halfway, won two rounds without saying a word, and quietly retired while he was ahead.
Julie attempted to set up her camera on the corner shelf twice.
Both times, Selena confiscated it without even turning her head.
"It’s private content! Birthday exclusives break the algorithm!" Julie whined.
"The only thing breaking today is your hand if you touch that camera again."
"Supervisor Selena, has anyone told you that you’re a dictator?"
"Yes. You. Every day."
Nicholas watched it all quietly from his seat.
The noise. The laughter. The bickering.
In his previous life, nights like this didn’t exist. Nights were for contracts. For rooftops and rifle scopes and the silence that came after a job was done.
He’d spent thirty years learning that silence.
’...This is better,’ he admitted inwardly, the thought settling in his chest with a strange warmth.
The party slowly wound down as the night deepened.
Thinker left first, phone already at his ear. Nectron and Vixen followed after, and Dana finally dragged a protesting Julie out by the collar after catching her attempting to smuggle the last of the cake out under her jacket.
"It’s going to waste!"
"It’s going to your room is what it is. Move it."
Their voices faded down the hallway, leaving the room quiet for the first time all night.
Nicholas stacked the plates on the table. It was an old habit; he never left traces behind.
"You don’t have to do that, you know. The cleaning staff handles it."
He turned.
Selena stood by the door. He’d assumed she left with the others, but there she was, one hand tucked behind her back, her weight shifting from one foot to the other.
For someone who could stare down an S-rank hero without blinking, she looked strangely restless.
"You forgot something?" Nicholas asked.
"No. I just..." Selena clicked her tongue, as though annoyed at her own hesitation. "Here."
She brought her hand forward.
Resting in her palm was a small black box.
Nicholas stared at it for a moment before taking it. He opened the lid.
Inside was a wristwatch. Matte black, no shine to it at all, the kind of finish that swallowed light instead of reflecting it. The hands glowed a faint, quiet blue.
"It’s non-reflective," Selena said, folding her arms and looking somewhere past his shoulder. "You’re always sneaking around rooftops at night like some kind of cryptid, and your old one catches light. It’s sloppy. As your supervisor, your sloppiness reflects on me. So. There."
Nicholas turned the watch over.
On the back of the case, a small engraving caught the light.
Phantom.
’She had it engraved.’ His gaze lingered on the lettering for a long moment.
"If you don’t like it, I kept the receipt—"
"I like it."
Selena paused mid-sentence.
Nicholas removed his old watch without another word, sliding the new one onto his wrist and fastening the strap. It sat perfectly, as though she’d somehow known his exact size.
She probably did. She was his supervisor, after all. Knowing things was her job.
"It fits," he said.
"O-Of course it fits. I don’t do things halfway," Selena replied, recovering quickly, though her arms tightened slightly around herself.
Nicholas looked down at the watch, then at her.
"Supervisor Selena."
"What?"
"Tomorrow. I’m going to win the tournament."
Selena rolled her eyes, already reaching into her pocket for her cigarettes, "Yes, yes, you and your ridiculous confidence. I’ve heard it a thousand—"
"For you."
Her fingers froze around the cigarette pack.
"...What?"
"I’m going to win it for you," Nicholas said. His voice was the same as always—calm, flat, certain. But his eyes held hers without wavering. "So don’t worry about anything tomorrow. Just watch."
The words hung in the air between them.
Selena stared at him.
Her brain, which had processed hostage negotiations, impure outbreaks, and council politics without missing a step, chose that exact moment to stop working entirely.
’For... me? Win it for me? What does he mean for me?! Why would he—’
Heat crawled up her neck and settled into her cheeks before she could stop it.
’Is he—Is this brat flirting with me?! Now?! After two hundred days of being an insufferable—’
"Your face is red," Nicholas noted.
"It’s the wine!" Selena snapped, whipping around so fast her hair nearly slapped him. "I’m going to bed! Don’t be late tomorrow, you hear me?! If you’re late I’m docking your pay!"
She stormed out of the room, heels clicking furiously down the hallway, the unlit cigarette still crushed in her fist.
Nicholas watched her go, then glanced down at the watch on his wrist.
’We’re going to win this year’s convention, just like you’ve always wanted. I will make sure of it.’
Her drunken words drifted through his mind. The way her voice had cracked when she spoke of her brother. The promise she’d made to a dead man while clinging to a stranger’s shoulder.
She didn’t remember saying any of it.
But he did.
’A hitman always completes his contract,’ Nicholas thought, lowering his sleeve over the watch. ’This one just happens to be free of charge.’
"So it’s true then. You really plan on fighting them all alone."
Nicholas paused at the corner of the hallway.
Dana stood leaning against the wall beside the elevator pod, arms folded. The playful glint that usually danced in her eyes was gone, replaced with something sharper.
"Nectron told you," Nicholas said.
"Of course he told me. It’s my job to know." Dana pushed off the wall, walking up to him. "Elimination only comes from losing a fight. So you want to keep all three of you alive till the end by taking every fight yourself. Every country. Every hero. Alone. Then feed Tianzun to Nectron and Vixen first, let them grind him down, and come in last to finish it."
"That’s the plan."
"That’s not a plan, Nicholas. That’s a gamble with your body as the chip." Dana’s voice dropped lower. "I’ve watched you pull off ridiculous things since the day you walked into the association. I’m usually the first one betting on you. But this isn’t a horde of mindless beasts. These are the strongest heroes of every nation, and every single one of them has spent the past three days studying you. Mercury alone took down Tianzun once. And you want to take her, and everyone else, back to back with no rest?"
"Yes."
"...You’re not even going to pretend to think about it?"
"I already thought about it. That’s why it’s the plan."
Dana stared at him for a long moment. Then she let out a slow breath, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
"We can still reconsider. Split the early matches three ways, keep you fresh—"
"Dana."
She looked up.
Nicholas stood with his hands in his pockets, his expression unchanged. But there was something in his eyes she’d only glimpsed a few times before. The same look he’d had walking toward the dragon.
"I didn’t survive twenty-one years in my line of work by taking gambles," he said. "I survived by never entering a game I hadn’t already won. Trust me. I’ll be fine."
’His line of work?’ Dana caught the phrasing, filing it away in the growing folder of mysteries labeled Phantom in the back of her mind.
Then she smiled, the mischief slowly bleeding back into her face.
"Fine. But if you collapse out there, I’m telling the whole world the great Phantom got carried off the stage like a princess."
"Deal."
"Tch. You’re no fun when you don’t get embarrassed." Dana turned toward the elevator, waving a hand over her shoulder. Then she paused.
"...Nicholas."
"Hm?"
"Happy birthday. I mean it. Whatever happens tomorrow, tonight was a good night."
Nicholas was quiet for a moment.
"It was," he said. "Thank you. All of you. I mean it too."
Dana blinked, genuinely caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. Then she grinned wide.
"Well, well. The birthday boy has a heart after all. Wait till I tell Selena—"
"Goodnight, Dana."
"Goodnight, Phantom." Her laughter faded into the elevator pod as the doors slid shut.
The arena fell quiet as the night stretched on.
One by one, the lights in the residential wing went out. Heroes from every nation lay in their beds, running through strategies, counters, and formations for the day that would decide everything.
In his room, Nicholas sat by the window, the city lights glittering far below. The matte black watch rested on his wrist, its blue hands ticking softly through the silence.
{CP: 3,065}
He closed the system screen and looked out at the dark horizon.
Somewhere in the same building, a monk sat cross-legged in the dark, prayer beads rolling slowly between his fingers, a faint smile resting on his lips.
Morning would come soon.
And with it, the final event.
The Combat.